


Burn

by pringlesaremydivision



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Fluff, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-05 19:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5387378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision/pseuds/pringlesaremydivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry's beard is probably a little scratchy, but that's okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly just some complete self-indulgence because I love Barry's beard? Idk, enjoy.

Barry’s been hirsute since the onset of puberty, really, and although he resented it when he was the only one in ninth grade who had to shave more than once a month, he doesn’t mind it so much now. He knows he looks good with a beard, and he especially enjoys how much it annoys Ross that he can grow better facial hair in two days than Ross can grow in two weeks.

“It’s okay, babyface, puberty hits later for some people,” Barry says, chuckling around the straw of his iced latte as Ross scrubs a hand over his jaw, pathetic stubble barely visible against his skin. In the late summer sun, his eyes are nearly the same color as the sky, and Barry can't help admiring them even as Ross is pulling stupid faces at him.

Ross fishes an ice cube out of his tea and flicks it at Barry. “Not all of us are werewolves, B.”

Barry snorts. “Wait, wouldn’t that mean I’m only hairy three days out of the month? If anything I’m like. A reverse werewolf. A werehuman? Or maybe -”

“You’re a beast, Bar,” Ross interrupts, cutting him off. “You’re a bear! You’re a werebear. Barry the werebear.”

“Bears? Where?” Barry yelps, before dissolving into laughter.

“You’re an idiot,” Ross answers, shaking his head in dismay.

“Yeah,” Barry agrees, “but you love me anyway.”

“Yeah, well.” Ross shrugs, but his smile is so fond, so soft, that it stops Barry in his tracks, straw halfway to his mouth.

Ross narrows his eyes. “What are you looking at me like that for? Do I have something on my face?”

Barry blinks, realizes he might’ve been staring.

He forces himself to answer normally. “No, I thought that was the point of this whole conversation.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Ross says, sticking out his tongue.

Barry just grins and sips his latte, and the conversation resumes like nothing ever happened.

* * *

 

It takes almost a month; a month of lingering looks, of touches that last way longer than the convention of 'friends' would dictate, and the thing is, nothing has really changed between them. It's always been this way. Barry knows as a group they're more affectionate than most to begin with, lots of hugging and disregarding personal space, but he and Ross have always kicked it up another notch, curling close together on the couch when they're playing Steam Train, arms slung around shoulders, sometimes with a blanket wrapped around them both when it's cold in the Grump Room.

Ross isn't like that with anyone else, and neither is Barry.

When they finally kiss, it’s curled up against one another on the couch after playing Lovers in a Dangerous Spacetime, a kiss that starts off slow and soft and sweet but  _lasts_  and  _builds_ until they’re both gasping from it, tangled up in one another.

“Christ, Ross,” Barry whispers, running his thumb over the soft skin around Ross’s mouth, relishing the soft little whimper Ross lets out at the touch, “you should see how red your skin is, how easy I can mark you up. Everybody’s gonna know what we’ve been doing in here.”

“It’s your stupid beard,” Ross retorts, but the words come out weak, shaky, and when Barry leans back in and rubs his cheek against his exposed throat, he shudders and whines, tilting his head back further, wordlessly begging for more. 

“So pale,” Barry murmurs, sucking a kiss into the dip of Ross’s collarbone. “You’re so pretty like this.”

Ross flushes, pink high on his cheeks complementing the red around his mouth, clambering into Barry’s lap and lowering his head for another kiss. “I’m pale everywhere,” he whispers just before their lips meet.

Barry is never going to shave again.


End file.
